by J. Kenner
“Well, yeah,” she admitted, as Jenna crossed her arms, looking smug.
“I’d say you’re pulling your weight just fine, Megan,” Tyree said. “And I’m happy that when you needed the extra work, we had enough to toss it your way.”
He meant what he said. He didn’t know the details of why Megan left a thriving career as a makeup artist in LA to move to Austin, but he did know that she’d done it at the spur of the moment. And that there’d been a man somewhere in the picture. Presumably a man she was trying to avoid.
He hated the thought that Eli might be in a strange town someday without work or friends to help him. And the thought was doubly potent if he imagined that Eli was a daughter instead of a son. Old fashioned, maybe, but that’s the way Tyree rolled. “We square?” he asked, his attention focused on her.
“Yeah,” she said. Her expression was firm and businesslike, but he saw the smile behind her glasses. “We are.”
“Then let’s get to talking about this calendar. I swear, Jenna, I never expected there’d come a day when part of my job would be looking at beefcake shots of shirtless men.”
She blinked at him, all innocence. “That wasn’t part of your Marine training?”
“Watch it, girl,” he said, but with laughter in his voice.
“Well, you’re off the hook today, because we have a problem. I’d hoped to have a few proofs to show you—just shots of Reece to get an idea of lighting and poses before we schedule the full shoot for Mr. January to Mr. March. But our photographer got hired by some fashion magazine, dropped everything, and moved to Milan.”
“I’m impressed.”
Jenna scowled. “He was supposed to be good. Now he’s gone. So Megan and I are interviewing replacements and poring over portfolios. Fortunately, all the guys are easy to get a hold of, so I don’t think scheduling will be a problem. And of course Megan can do makeup, so we don’t have to worry about that. So by the time we hire someone, we can probably knock out Mr. April and Mr. May at the same shoot.”
“We want to get the final, cleaned-up images to the calendar designer as early as possible so that we can stick to a late October on-sale date for the calendar,” Megan added. “And we want all the shots to have continuity. Like writers, photographers have a voice. We don’t want someone who’s going to abandon us midway through the project. We’ll be running contests into early October, right?”
Megan directed the question at Jenna, who nodded. “It’s the best way to keep interest up and folks walking through the doors. At any rate, the point is we’re looking for someone who can photograph both men and food. If we can use the same photographer for the cookbook, that would be sweet. You’re working on the recipes, right?”
She tilted her head as she eyed him, and he was reminded of Mrs. Thibodeaux, his fourth grade teacher in New Orleans.
“Got a stack of them in this pile of junk,” he said, tapping his computer affectionately.
Jenna nodded, the gesture obviously a mental checkmark, and continued. “So that’s the scoop on the end result. Meanwhile, Megan and I both think we need to kick up the real estate on the actual contest.”
Tyree’s brows rose. “Real estate?”
“Male pecs, male abs, male torso. You know. The reason the women come every other Wednesday.”
“We want to lure in some new guys,” Jenna explained, probably in response to his confused expression. “High profile guys. Nolan’s a great start,” she said, referring to a local drive-time radio personality who would be bounding across the stage in two days for the Mr. April contest, “but we want to go even further.”
“You have ideas as to where to find these amazing paragons of manhood?”
Jenna’s lips twitched. “I think you should enter. Megan agrees,” she added, as her companion nodded.
Tyree crossed his arms over his massive chest, leaned back in his chair, and shook his head. “I’ll be forty-six in a few months. I may not be too old to sponsor that shit, but I’m definitely too old to participate.”
The women exchanged looks. “The female point of view begs to differ, but we can table it for right now. The point is, we’re going to go hot and heavy into recruiting. Megan has a few ideas on which local businessmen to approach. The kind who look very fine in tailored suits. And we’re thinking a wet T-shirt contest might be fun.”
Tyree leaned back and lifted his eyes to heaven. “Lord, save me from ambitious women.”
“Funny,” Jenna said, as Tyree grinned.
“Seriously, Jen, this is your concept, your baby. You run it how you want, and I’ll support you. Anything else?”
“Just that we’ll keep bugging you about entering. You’ve got some serious pecs, bossman. And the broadest shoulders I’ve ever seen. You’re almost as hot as Reece,” she teased as she pushed herself up out of her chair.
He just shook his head and chuckled.
“Eventually we’ll wear you down,” Megan promised. Or maybe it was a threat.
“And one day hell will freeze over,” Tyree shot back. “Doesn’t mean either of us will be around to see it.”
She laughed, and the two women hustled out leaving Tyree shaking his head, amused.
Since he’d managed to scare his computer into cooperating, Tyree worked a bit more on the accounts, and found that his mood had improved. Probably a little bit because of Jenna and Megan’s company, but also because the books were showing a consistent increase in revenue over the past few weeks. And that was a hell of a thing.
He shut the machine down before it had the chance to get cranky again, then headed into the kitchen to make sure things were running smoothly, and the team wasn’t getting backed up with the lunchtime rush.
During the first four years that The Fix had been open, Tyree himself had run the kitchen, experimenting as he finalized what he now considered to be a damn perfect menu. But with the increasing competition on Sixth Street, the heart of Austin’s tourist-and-college scene, he’d made the decision to be a front-of-the-bar owner, getting to know the customers and having a presence in the place. That was something a corporate bar could never replicate. That true down-home feel of a genuine local bar.
Since Jenna had come on board as the bar’s marketing guru, she’d seconded his decision. And although Tyree missed being in the kitchen trying to replicate and expand on the southern flavors of his childhood, he couldn’t deny that he liked the sense of being at the center of life at The Fix.
“Easton,” Tyree said, clapping the local lawyer on the back as he nodded toward the beer. “I’m guessing no court this afternoon.”
“You guessed right. I’m about to head back to my office, let my paralegal load me down with folders, then grab a taxi to the airport. Three days of depositions in Lansing. It’s going to be brutal.”
“At least you won’t have to come up with an excuse for Megan as to why you’re not entered in the Mr. April or Mr. May contest.”
Easton’s eyes widened. “She’s on a rampage?”
“Be wary, my friend,” Tyree said, chuckling as he moved down the bar to greet some other customers, then say a few words to Eric, the bartender working the lunch shift. He was leaning forward to ask Eric if he could pick up an extra shift when something—or rather, someone—snagged his attention.
It was just a feeling. Just the oddest sense of familiarity. Hell, he hadn’t even been looking toward the door, so the girl was only at the edge of his periphery.
It didn’t matter. She compelled him. And he stopped what he was doing, then turned toward the entrance.
Eva?
But no, that was absurd, and the ridiculous moment passed as quickly as it had come. Of course it wasn’t Eva. How could it be? She was halfway across the country and more than two decades away. Even if she’d walked through that door, they were separated by time and space. By pain and death. By life and dreams and family and loss.
The current of life moved on, and his current had pushed him past Eva a long, long time ago. And
that was a good thing, too. Otherwise he never would have met Teiko, the wife he adored. The mother of his son.
And yet the girl by the door had captured his attention…
Not a doppelgänger—not identical at all. But damned if there wasn’t a striking similarity. The same shade of dark skin, like coffee with just a few drops of cream. The mouth that flashed a wide, easy smile. The close-cropped hair with deliberately placed curls at her forehead and in front of her ears. A sleek, sophisticated style that accentuated those wide eyes and high cheekbones.
Pushed forward by both curiosity and trepidation, Tyree took a step toward her, only to find his path blocked by Tiffany Russell, one of his best waitresses, who was looking both frazzled and uncertain.
“Tiffany? What’s the matter?”
“I need—” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh, hell. Can I talk to you? Maybe over in the back bar?”
The Fix on Sixth boasted two bar areas. A front area with more seating and a stage that played host to local bands. And a smaller back bar, with just a few tables and a much more intimate feel. Since she was clearly agitated, he followed her to the back, his concern mounting.
“What’s going on?” he asked, as soon as they were standing near the windows in the back bar. They were out of earshot of the customers, most of whom were sitting on stools at the polished bar, chatting with Lori, one of The Fix’s first shift bartenders.
“I just thought you should know that Steven Kane—you know him, right? The manager at Bodacious?” At Tyree’s nod, she continued. “Well, he cornered me at Starbucks the other day and started chatting me up about how it was to work here, and if I got paid enough, and how much is the door on the nights we do the Man of the Month contest.”
Tyree said nothing. He was too busy fuming. Not about the fact that Bodacious—one of the corporate bullshit bars that had moved in down the street with watered down dollar drinks—was asking about the competition and earnings. No, what pissed Tyree off was that they were trying to poach his employees.
“I didn’t tell him anything,” Tiffany said, looking a little taken aback by Tyree’s silence. “And honestly I don’t care what you pay me. I love working here, and I’m not dressing like a damn hooker just for better tips.” He chuckled, and she frowned. “Just don’t, you know, knock my wage down by a dollar.”
“Wouldn’t do that,” Tyree said. “And I appreciate the loyalty.” Which was true. Even though he suspected that she was more loyal to her not-so-secret crush on Eric than she was to him.
“You’ve got it in spades. But here’s the thing.” She bent in closer, as if the patrons at the bar might give a rat’s ass about their conversation. “I think they’re hitting on Aly, too. And I know she’s hard up for cash. I think she might bail on us.”
Shit.
Aly was a waitress who Tyree had recently trained and promoted to bartender. And goddamn Steven Kane if he poached her away from him.
“I don’t know for sure,” Tiffany said. “I just thought you should—”
Since she looked to be on the verge of tears—and Tyree really couldn’t handle any tears today—he put his hand firmly on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You just take care of those customers and let me worry about it, okay?”
She nodded, drew in a breath, and started for the main room.
“And Tiffany?”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“You did right letting me know.”
He saw the relief wash over her face, and felt a bit relieved himself. That was one good deed he’d done today. If he killed Kane, would that erase all his good karma? He scowled, considering. Probably better to let the little prick keep breathing. But it was a damn close call.
As he headed back into the main bar area, he found himself casting his gaze around in search of the woman who looked so much like Eva. She wasn’t there, and as he continued toward his office, he couldn’t shake the lingering disappointment.
Back at his desk, he tried to concentrate on all the mundane tasks that needed attention, but he couldn’t focus. Instead, all his attention was taken by the framed photo on his desk. A silly shot of a nine-year-old Elijah goofing around with Teiko in the backyard.
Tyree had been on the back patio fighting with the camera, and when he’d finally gotten the settings right, he’d called her name. She’d looked over at him, her arms around the squirming boy and her eyes filled with so much love he’d almost frozen instead of clicking the shutter.
It was one of the last photos he’d taken of her.
His chest tightened as the memory crashed hard over him. Christ, he loved her.
Gently, he brushed a fingertip over the image of her face. “I miss you, babe,” he murmured, then pushed away from the desk and stood.
According to the clock in the shape of a beer bottle that was mounted on the office wall, it was earlier than he’d planned to leave. But Tyree had a good team. A loyal staff. And the pull of home was overwhelming. He needed his son beside him. A few quiet hours.
And then tomorrow…
Well, tomorrow would come like it always did.
This time when Tyree stepped out of the employees-only area and into the large main room, Reece was behind the bar, relieving Eric. He nodded in acknowledgement, his expression sober and a just a little sympathetic, as Tyree headed toward the front.
He was almost to the door when Megan hurried up. “Hey,” she said. “I don’t want to hold you up, but could I grab you for a couple of minutes tomorrow before opening? I just want to go over some—”
“Sorry, sugar. I won’t be back until Wednesday.”
“Oh.” He understood the surprise on her face. Tyree hardly ever took an entire day off. “Where are you—”
“Wednesday,” he repeated, then walked away. And as he did, he heard Megan ask, “Where’s he going? Out of town?”
And in the moment before the door to The Fix closed behind him, Tyree heard Reece’s gentle reply. “He’s going to go see his wife.”
Grab your copy now: Get It On
Are you eager to learn which Man of the Month book features which sexy hero?
Here’s a handy list!
Down On Me - meet Reece
Hold On Tight - meet Spencer
Need You Now - meet Cameron
Start Me Up - meet Nolan
Get It On - meet Tyree
In Your Eyes - meet Parker
Turn Me On - meet Derek
Shake It Up - meet Landon
All Night Long - meet Easton
In Too Deep - meet Matthew
Light My Fire - meet Griffin
Walk The Line - meet Brent
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J. Kenner Series In KU
Check out these blurbs for KU first-in-series books
by J. Kenner!
Because books are constantly being added to KU (and sometimes leave KU for a period of time) you can always find an updated list of JK’s Kindle Unlimited books here!
Born in Darkness
Fight and redeem myself … refuse and suffer an eternity of torment.
I intended to kill him—to avenge my sister by destroying the vile human who’d tortured and broken her. My plan was simple. Foolproof.
Except somehow I ended up dead.
Now the joke’s on me, because I’ve been resurrected as an assassin and given a choice: Fight the forces of darkness and redeem myself … or refuse and suffer an eternity of torment.
The choice seems clear. But I’m unprepared for the depth of the evil I must face. And I’m unsettled by my attraction to the darkly sensual man whose words seduce me, but who is hiding secrets of his own.
All I know is what I’m told. I’m afraid I’m a pawn in a much larger game where I can’t tell
my enemies from my allies. I just hope it’s a game I can win.
Down On Me
With his tight muscles and vibrant ink, certified bachelor Reece Walker is the kind of man who’s used to having any woman he craves in his bed—except Jenna Montgomery. She’s been his best friend for years, and that’s a line he just can’t cross.
Until a wild, stolen kiss changes everything. Now anything goes, and Reece is determined to use every wicked skill in his sensual repertoire to claim Jenna as his friend, his lover, his everything.
Carpe Demon
Kate Connor is your average, everyday mom with two kids, a husband, and one very big secret ... she used to be a Demon Hunter for a secret arm of the Vatican. Now retired, she's more interested in the domestic than the demonic. So when she catches sight of a demon in Wal-Mart, she tells herself it's some other Hunter's problem. But when that demon attacks her in her kitchen, retirement is no longer an option.
Now Kate has to kick a little demon butt, figure out why the creatures are trying to take her out and take over her home town, and at the same time take care of her 2 year old, deal with a hormonal 14 year old, get the family to Catholic Mass on time, and try to keep her past a secret from her daughter and her husband.
She's a little out of practice, but hey ... if she can juggle two kids and an impromptu dinner party, ridding the town of demons should be a piece of cake. Like the saying goes, Carpe Demon ... and Kate intends to do just that.
So (Very!) Much More than
the Girl Next Door